


Warm in Your Arms

by siximpossiblethings



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Prompt Fill, Smutlet, Thea Appreciation, Underage Masturbation, Underage phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siximpossiblethings/pseuds/siximpossiblethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Because, I miss you,” says Eponine. She adds emphasis on the last three words, hoping he’ll catch on. “I miss being around you,” she says with a light sigh and she plays with the strings of her shorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm in Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Little ficlet/smutlet written for Thea Appreciation Week! She prompted "Well, you’ll have to excuse me, I know it’s so off, I love when you do stuff that’s rude and so wrong." ("My Junk" from Spring Awakening) and this was the product. If you don't know her already, check out Thea's Tumblr (youarethesentinels) because, let's be real, she's the queen of the E/E ship.
> 
> WARNING(S): mutual masturbation over the phone with two consenting underage participants (both in a relationship)

“I miss you,” Eponine coos out. Her face is buried in her pillow, the phone cradled in her ear. She wishes she could whisper that in his ear, but it’s almost midnight and Enjolras is back home already.

“You saw me a couple of hours ago, Ep,” Enjolras replies. He presses his index finger and thumb against his eyes, feeling tired from doing absolutely nothing. School was almost out and finals were going to be the death of him.

“I know,” she says, staring up at her ceiling. She’s in her pajamas, an old pair of gym shorts and a track tee shirt that barely fits her anymore and is too tight around the chest. “Can’t I miss my own boyfriend?”

“Of course you can,” he says. “I’m just confused as to why you called so late.” Enjolras is laying on his bed, boxers and a thin tank top serving as his sleepwear. Eponine normally only texted if it was this late, which led him to be a bit confused.

“Because, _I miss you_ ,” says Eponine. She adds emphasis on the last three words, hoping he’ll catch on. “I miss being around you,” she says with a light sigh and she plays with the strings of her shorts.

“Eponine…”                                                                                    

“I miss when your hands are on me. They’re so strong.” Eponine’s hand begins to move under her shorts, her fingers pulling and twisting at her underwear.

Enjolras doesn’t reply, clenching his jaw in frustration even though she can’t see.

“I wish I was there with you right now,” she continues, not satisfied without a reply. “I’d…,” she begins, purposely trailing off.

“You’d what?” asks Enjolras, mental images of his girlfriend flooding the backs of his eyelids.

She smiles, something between a grin and a smirk, and continues. “I’d straddle you; I know you like that. Then I’d kiss down your chest and it’d be too stuffy in your room, so I’d have to take my top off.”

Enjolras, being the teenage boy he is, begins to snake his hand down his boxers. “You look gorgeous on top of me,” he adds in.

That makes Eponine’s heart beat a little faster and her finger rubs against her clit slightly. “Mmm.” Her moans are soft, airy even. When he hears them, though, Enjolras doesn’t care about adjectives, he only cares about how he can hear more of them.

“I wish I could see you now,” she says. “I want to see you… you know,” she says, her cheeks flushing a dark sanguine red. Even though she’s thought about it before, she still feels ridiculous saying it out loud.

“Want to see me what?” he asks. Enjolras begins to pump his hand along his half-hard shaft, biting his lower lip.

“Mmm,” Eponine moans as a reply, rubbing her clit harder and faster now.

“What do you want to see me do?” Enjolras repeats himself, wanting to her Eponine say it.

“I want to see you jack off,” she whispers timidly. The idea of Enjolras touching himself while they were on the phone made her blush even more, even though she was doing the same exact thing.

“God,” Enjolras lets out, sudden and strong. He slows his pace down, wanting to last longer.

“Enjolras,” Eponine moans out, the name strung together on an invisible line, like laundry. “I want you.”

“I wish I could see you right now,” he says, shifting his position to a more comfortable one. “What are you doing to yourself?”

“Rubbing my clit,” she whispers into the phone piece. She pivots her hips, hitting new angles and letting out another soft moan. “What are you doing?” she asks, throwing Enjolras’s own question back to him.

“Jacking off,” he says bluntly. He quickens his pace, slowly working up to the rhythm he’s found works best for him. “I want you here, Christ.” Enjolras swallows his throat tight like rope. Now that he thinks about it, if Eponine were actually there, he probably wouldn’t be able to last as long as he has.

“I want to be there,” Eponine says. She lets out a small sigh as she slips a finger into herself. “I want your hands where mine are. I want to feel your mouth all over me, fuck.” Eponine’s thumb rubs small but swift circles on her clit and she can feel her breath deepen.

“Shit,” Enjolras curses. “You’re so gorgeous, god.” His mind was preoccupied with the images Eponine’s words were conjuring up in his mind. He wanted to be the reason she came and the reason she would touch herself again later. The very idea of causing her to become hot and bothered and to start rubbing her clit made his blood rush behind his ears.

“I’m so close,” she says as her fingers find the spot she likes best. “Oh god.” Rubbing her clit harder, Eponine throws her head back against her pillow.

“I want to hear you come,” Enjolras says. “I bet you sound perfect.” He wants to hear her call out his name as she sees stars, as she quivers with oversensitivity.

“Enjolras,” she moans out again, dragging his name out as if her life depended on it. Her voice, when strained and drawn out like this, is like the sweetest honey and it’s only for him to collect.

“’Ponine,” he says, pumping his cock harder until he has to shut his eyes. “God,” he continues, biting the inside of his cheek so he can stop himself from crying out.

“ _FUCK,_ ” she says, the word curt and short coming out of her mouth. With just the sound of her name strung out on Enjolras’ tongue and the right amount of pressure on her clit, she’s coming and letting out a hushed slew of expletives, followed by “Enjolras” one last time.

When Eponine comes and says his name like that, Enjolras can’t help but lose it. He comes, milky white spurts shooting from his cock. “Fucking hell,” he says, swallowing his words. “Eponine, shit.”

Both Enjolras and Eponine ride out their orgasms separately, on two separate beds, in two separate houses. When the post orgasm feeling of blissful haze fades enough just to peek out their foggy eyes, Enjolras opens his eyes, rushing to grab the box of tissues he keeps in his drawer. He cleans himself off, otherwise silent. When he’s finished, he returns to the phone and clears his throat, although he says nothing.

“Enjolras?” Eponine is the first to speak.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” She pulls up the blankets around her, her body suddenly chilly.

“I love you, too, Eponine,” Enjolras says, a smile showing on his face and through his voice.

They say nothing else and hang up, feeling warm and drunk with feeling.

 


End file.
